


Born of Fire and Flame

by Rayvee



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: And then writing this., Bounty of the Elements, But I. Couldn't be bothered., Gen, I could've made new characters, I wrote most of this at like 10:30 PM., It was... not., It's also a continuation of the Fire Flight BotE story., Maybe I'll do more? IDK, Me going "How would the rest of the world react when the Banescale returned?", So it's got Por and Ventrik, Temper Temper, This was supposed to be a short thing, send help, so there's that, this is kinda just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayvee/pseuds/Rayvee
Summary: After thousands of years, the Banescale dragons have returned to the world. Countless hatchlings, all flying free from the last remaining clutches.But how did the dragons who were already inhabitants of Sornieth react?
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 4





	Born of Fire and Flame

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the Bounty of the Elements story, Temper, Temper. As a result, Por and Ventrik are in this story, as well as Haemil and Howle to a lesser extent. They aren't the _only_ characters in this, but they're the main ones.

The Blacksmiths and the Forgemaster’s Army had clashed again, a bitter battle that left yet more dragons dead. Por glided over the latest battlefield, her orange eyes piercing through the smoke as the sky grew lighter from the dawn.

Three times the Forgemaster’s had tried to take over the little peninsula, with its strange, magical lava, and three times the Forgeworkers and Blacksmiths had prevailed. Howle and Ventrik both flew beside her, and below them ran Por’s cousin Haemil, bounding over the rocks and jumping streams of lava with the speed and agility only Mirrors possessed. They were scouting the lay of the land, which was growing and changing steadily every day. 

Por felt a change in the air, but it wasn’t until Ventrik faltered before she got worried. Howle glanced at the Fae, startled. “What is it?”  
Ventrik’s crests were twitching, a sign that the Fae was nervous. “Some kind of new magical energy.” Both Coatl and Tundra paused in midair at the sound of that. Por could see Haemil slow on the ground below, turning back to look at them. He was probably wondering why they’d stopped. She flew down to meet him.

“What’s going on?” her cousin asked, tail twitching. “Why’d you stop?”  
“Ventrik felt some kind of new magical energy,” Por told him, growing worried. _ If the Forgemasters have some kind of new weapon…  
_ The four fell silent, as they all focused on the new power. It felt stronger here, standing on the ground.  
“What do you think?” Por asked Ventrik. “Some kind of new weapon?” Fae were more sensitive to the ambient magical energy of the world compared to most dragons.  
“I don’t think so. It appears to be a really old spell, one cast thousands of years ago- but it’s lying dormant, waiting for some kind of trigger.” Howle and Haemil glanced at each other, but in the end, it was the Mirror who spoke.   
“I thought spells couldn’t last that long?”  
“They usually can’t. This one must be immensely powerful. But I don’t think it’s meant for battle.” 

Coatl, Mirror, and Tundra all did a double take at this.  _ Not meant for battle?  _ Por wondered. _ Then why make such a powerful spell?  _ The only reason she could think of was ‘to see if they could,’ but that didn’t really feel right to her. Maybe it was an attempt at making something. She shook herself. 

“We should fly back, and report.” Por cocked her head, feeling the strange magic. “A spell this old could be huge.”

  


\--

  


Ventrik once again flew over the peninsula, this time leading Zaria Sparkwing, a Wildclaw Magister of Fire who the Forgeworkers had allowed to investigate the mysterious lava imbued withFire magic, primarily because knowing more about the lava would allow them to work with it more effectively. Upon hearing about the strange ancient spell, she had immediately insisted upon being allowed to investigate it. Several other dragons, curious about the strange magic or distrustful of Zaria, had come along to poke around, guard the Wildclaw, or aid the Magister. A new kind of magic- one that wasn’t on any runestones, one that had never been documented- had caught the attention of a lot of dragons. Ventrik had found himself being interrogated by several dragons, all talking at once. It had not been pleasant, especially because the answer to most of the questions was _ I don’t know _ . 

  


Once they’d landed, Zaria had immediately started setting up a complex instrument to more accurately measure the lingering magical energy floating around. Once that was done, she stared at it for a long time, fiddling with its various parts.  
“What do you think?” asked a sky blue Spiral, his long body curled around a spur of rock jutting out of the volcanic ground.

  


“I’m picking up the usual amount of Fire...what seems to be an immensely powerful Ice spell...and… something else, something that’s every bit as strong as the Ice spell, maybe even stronger. Let’s see...” She adjusted a series of lenses attached to the instrument. “The Ice spell seems to be a sealing spell of some kind, but the other… gah, it’s hard to tell. It’s not one of the Eleven main elements, it’s not Chaos magic-”  
“That’s a relief,” interrupted a large Tundra. Zaria shot him a look that the furred dragon completely missed.  
“Not Blood, not Venom, not Metal, not Cloud-”  
“ _ Obviously _ . What would a  _ cloud  _ be doing underground?” Zaria spun around to glare at the interrupting Pearlcatcher.  
“Will you people stop interrupting?!” She turned back to the tracking terminal. “Oh, this is interesting… It seems to have similarities to Mind and Spirit, but it’s not either of them, and it’s far too different to not be a combination. Fascinating...” she trailed off as she started furiously writing notes on some fireproof parchment bought exactly for this reason. Ventrik tried to peek at them, but the Wildclaw’s writing was messy to the point where it was nigh illegible.

  


They stayed for three more hours, watching Zaria Sparkwing work on her readings. A small group had left to hunt, then returned. The blue Spiral had fallen asleep. The large Tundra had wandered off to investigate something only he could smell. The Pearlcatcher was chasing random birds around. Most other dragons had gotten bored. Still Zaria worked, occasionally announcing particularly interesting discoveries or muttering things to herself, but mostly silent.

  


Frankly, Ventrik felt relieved when Por flew in. The Coatl announced that the Forgemaster’s army was once again gathering, and they needed everyone back at the base. Zaria complained that she didn’t have enough data, but Por quickly shut her down.

“When I say everyone, I mean  _ everyone _ . You can come back later.”

“But-”

“No buts.  _ Everyone _ .”

Zaria had sighed and packed up her terminal. The group of dragons had woken the Spiral and taken off, some with a great deal of relief. Venkrik himself was glad to get moving. _ Next time, I won’t be going with them, _ he decided.

  


\--

  


Por settled down in the cave she, Ventrik, Howle, and Haemil shared, relieved that she would be able to rest. The Forgemasters had turned out to be trying to intimidate them- to make them give it up. The Blacksmiths hadn’t, obviously- they all knew what would happen if they had. She fell asleep, listening to the familiar sound of dragons working in the makeshift forges they’d set up.

  


She was woken to the sounds of dragons roaring. Por rushed outside to find the Army  _ had  _ attacked after all- and the Forgeworkers were already fighting them. She took off to join the battle, seeing dragons attack their opponents, both in the air and on the ground. Scales, fur, and feathers were flying, elemental attacks every colour of the rainbow were streaking through the air, and blood rained down on the combatants below. Por flew to join the battle, launching a fireball at the nearest Army soldier, a pink-and-green Ridgeback.

  


\--

  


Por didn’t know how long they’d been fighting, but it couldn’t have been long- half an hour? Time always felt strange during battle. Faster. She’d felt something strange growing all night, but suddenly it grew stronger. She could tell the other dragons felt it too- they kept glancing away, towards the north, every time they weren’t directly locked in combat. Army and Blacksmiths both, whether they’d been born in the Fire Flight or outside of it.

  


Por suddenly felt an irresistible urge to stop fighting and fly north. She fought it for a minute, but eventually gave in. She kicked an enemy Nocturne in the face, then wheeled around and soared north. As she flew, she realized other dragons were doing the same- following the strange, primal urge to fly to a specific place. It took her a moment, but she realized all those dragons were Coatls like herself. As they flew, more and more dragons took notice of the feathered dragons, looked at each other, shrugged, and followed. 

  


It took Por a moment to recognize the location where they had first noticed the strange, unidentifiable magic only two days prior. As she spiralled down for a landing, she saw other dragons- mostly Coatls, but everything from tiny Fae to enormous Imperials were already waiting, and yet more were still flying in.

  


“Por? What’s going on?” She jumped. She hadn’t noticed her cousin come up behind her.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, watching as a group of Skydancers soared overhead. “I felt something- an instinct- something’s about to happen.” Indeed, the air was so full of anticipation it was practically physical.

  


Suddenly, there was a massive  _ CRACK _ echoing from deep underground. Some dragons cried out in fear, taking to the relative safety of the air, but the ground stayed still, even as a great creaking noise followed it. One of the other dragons- a Pearlcatcher with the pale silver-blue eyes from a dragon hatched in the Southern Icefield, claimed it sounded a lot like ice cracking and breaking. Por remembered Ventik’s report the last afternoon. An Ice spell that was sealing something away. 

It looked like that spell was fading.

  


The gathered dragons all fell silent, listening, even though they didn’t know what they were listening  _ for _ . For a time, the only sounds were the creaking and cracking of ice made long ago. Then, even that fell silent.

  


For a minute, no sound was heard- even the fire and lava fell silent. It was as if the whole of Sornieth was holding its breath.

Then the very land began to sing.

  


_ Born of Fire and Flame… _

  


Por somehow knew that whatever the song was, it was ancient, sung by long-dead dragons.

  


_ Banescale must rise… _

  


That caused several cries of alarm. Banescale dragons were a species only known in myths and legends- ancient, savage creatures that had been a hivemind, beings without empathy, beauty, or culture, the result of some twisted experiment by one of the Eleven- probably the Plaugebringer. Some claimed they still stalked the darkest areas of Sornieth.  
Por had often wondered if they’d ever existed, and if they were as bad as the old stories claimed.  
The old stories certainly hadn’t ever mentioned  _ singing _ .

  


_ Flamecaller’s children,  
_ _ Take now to the skies… _

  


Por felt a chill. _Flamecaller’s children._   
_ The Plaugebringer never had a hand in their creation. _

  


_ When the Flame calls,  
_ _ We know what to do.  
_ _ Fly far and fly wide,  
_ _ We take and consume... _

  


Por’s feathers were standing on end, and she wasn’t the only one. She saw Howle, whose fur had puffed out like a furball. The Gaolers looked even more terrified.

  


_ Deep into the Ice,  
_ _ With Magma we claimed.  
_ _ To take from the Ice God  
_ _ In Her Great Name… _

  


Por felt sick. The monsters of the old stories, the beasts that every hatchling learned to fear, had attacked the Ice Flight in the name of the  _ Flamecaller. _

  


_ The children of Ice,  
_ _ Unworthy and frail… _

  


_ The Gaolers,  _ Por realized.  _ No wonder they look so terrified. They’ve probably heard stories about that war. _

  


_ In the face of our might,  
_ _ Surely would fail… _

  


Except the Gaolers still walked the land, and the Banescale were gone. Por blinked.  _ What is going  _ on  _ here?  
_ The land had fallen silent for a moment, as the echoes of the ancient breed paused. It almost felt like Sorneith itself sighed.

  


_ Our pride was our fall,  
_ _ Our ego, our shame… _

_  
_

Por's breath caught in her throat. All of a sudden, she felt everything she knew about Banescale changing.

  


_ As Ice overtook…  
_ _ Our Fire and Flame… _

_  
_

Por turned her head towards the Gaolers. She saw all of them tense. The Gaolers had  _ wiped the Banescale out.  
_ She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Angry? Grateful? 

  


_ We Banescale were one…  
_ _ Our Flame shared one space… _

_  
_

A Hivemind, like the old stories claimed.  _ But were they? Is this song being literal? _

_  
_

_ Our future did lie…  
_ _ Within one embrace… _

_  
_

The ground suddenly gave a great tremor. The Banescale’s song had once again paused. Several dragons, looking toward the north, let out a cry. Something was rising out of the lava at the top of The Great Furnace. A head, flames flickering around it, on a long neck. Dark red scales, with glowing lava coursing below them in place of blood.  _ The Flamecaller herself.  _ The Goddess of Fire landed on the top of the volcano and turned her head towards The Blacksand Annex. Her glowing eyes focused on the epicenter of the song, ignoring the hundreds of Fire Flight dragons circling around her.

_  
_

_ Arrogant! Foolish! We  
_ _ Prideful Banescale… _

_  
_

_ They regretted it,  _ Por couldn’t help but think. _ They regretted everything.  
_ _ They  _ could  _ feel. _

_  
_

_ Our future, our Flame,  
_ _ We grieve and we wail… _

_  
_

_ Their dragonets. They cared about their dragonets. They weren't just mindless monsters.  
_ Por hadn’t noticed the ancient voices growing fewer, but the next lines were only sung by a single voice;

  


_ Our Flame’s lost to Ice…  
_ _ And frozen in time…  
_ _ We sing you this song,  
_ _ Now, as we all die… _

_  
_

Por suddenly felt an ache in her chest. They were listening to the final words of a long-dead race. As the Banescale Dragons had died, their final thoughts had been of their regret, of their hatchlings, and of a way to preserve their story for future generations.

Suddenly, there was movement. Flapping furiously, a small dragon, with unblinking orange eyes, massive wings, and only two legs, rose out of a vent a short distance away. As soon as it reached the open air, it let out a cry, wheeling higher into the sky with an impossible grace, as if it had been flying for decades, ignoring the gathered Fire dragons. Then another hatchling followed, and the echoes of the ancient Banescale continued to sing one final time.

  


_ If you should fly free,  
_ _ Remember our Song…  
_ _ Fly far and fly wide,  
_ _ To see the next dawn… _

_  
_

More and more Banescale hatchlings poured from the shaft, flying around in the sky in great loops. Some dragonets had genes Por recognized- Alloy, Ghost, Tiger, Jaguar, Spinner, Contour, Filigree, Ghost. Others had genes previously only known to Gaolers- Fans in particular. Still more had genes Por had never seen on any dragon, not even in stories- hatchlings streaming colourful vapour out of their mouths, flew with wings decorated with bright feathers, shook heads adorned with numerous spines, or flexed talons reinforced with external bone. The Banescale’s song had faded out, and each and every gathered dragon waited for it to continue.   
It didn’t.  
_ The song had never been completed. _

Suddenly Por was aware of The Flamecaller, still perched on the crest of the Great Furnace. She hadn’t so much as twitched a wing the whole time, as she’d observed the night’s events, but still the Coatl wondered how one could ever forget one of the Eleven were standing right there. The Goddess moved, for the first time since she had risen out of the lava.   
And The Flamecaller, Goddess of Fire, Ruler of The Ashfall Waste, started to sing.  
It was a song no dragon would ever forget.

  


_ Born of Fire and Flame,  
_ _ Banescale now rise.  
_ _ Flamecaller’s children,  
_ _ Take now to the skies!  
_ _ If you should fly free,  
_ _ Remember our Song:  
_ _ Fly far and fly wide,  
_ _ To see the next dawn.  
_ _ Learn from our failure,  
_ __ And join with the world.  
_ Our future, our Flame,  
_ __ Flies with you unfurled!

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, THIS is what my brain wants to do instead of writing more Golden Echoes.  
> I may write more of this in future, exploring the reactions of other Flights, or even that of The Flamecaller herself. I don't know.  
> I actually used Rich Text for this, and _oh my stars and garters,_ it's so much easier.
> 
> Banescale are my personal favorite dragons for the site, and I have a lot of headcanons for them- some appeared here. Most notably, the headcanon that the Gaolers demonized the Banescale after they were gone, exaggerating their worst traits & just making stuff up, causing the poor dragons to wind up as a kind of bogeyman ('eat your fish of the Banescale will eat you' type of thing), as well as no records of their songs, and an ability that if a large group of Banescale get together and sing, it can result in strange enchantments. Other dragons probably could also do such a thing, but Coatl are the only other species interested in music, and they usually don't get together in enough numbers and sing the right songs.


End file.
